An inventive tale of a long-lost language and culture, forgotten but for a single man.
"He felt a shiver run down his spine when he heard the lateral fricative with labiovelar overlay ring out loud and clear in the chill airo? It set forgotten follicles stirring in the soft part of his brain, disturbing liquids that had lain motionless for centuries, arousing sensations not made for men of the modern world. "
Ivan grew up in a gulag and held his dying father in his arms. Since then he has not uttered a word. He has lived in the wild, kept company only by the wolves and his reindeer-skin drum. He is the last of an ancient Siberian shamanic tribe, the Vostyachs, and the only person left on earth to know their language.
But when the innocent wild man Ivan is found in the forests by the lively linguist Olga, his existence proves to be a triumphant discovery for some, a grave inconvenience for others. And the reader is transported into the heart of the wildest imagination."
Diego Marani works as a senior linguist for the European Union in Brussels. Every week he writes a column for a Swiss newspaper in Europanto, a language he has invented. He also published a collection of short stories in Europanto, in France. In Italian he has published six novels, the most recent being l'Amico della Donna.
This is the fascinating tale of Ivan, the final speaker of a nearly extinct language. After his release from a Siberian gulag, Ivan embarks on a quest to reconnect with his heritage. His unique linguistic ability attracts the attention of anthropologist Tatyana, who perceives in him an opportunity to revive the lost language. However, their collaboration encounters obstacles as others seek to exploit Ivan's knowledge for personal gain.
The novel's plot is abundant with twists and turns, as Ivan navigates the intricacies of modern society while striving to preserve his cultural identity. The tension between safeguarding the past and embracing the future is a central theme, examined through Ivan's interactions with various characters. Each encounter enriches the narrative, highlighting the diverse motivations and conflicts that emerge from Ivan's rare gift.
Marani's prose vividly captures the landscapes and emotions of the characters, rendering the story both engaging and thought-provoking. The novel raises significant questions about the value of language and heritage in a rapidly evolving world. The Last of the Vostyachs is a compelling read that aptly captures the intersections of language, culture, and identity.
Ivan, the last of the Vostyachs, awakens to find that the Russian soldiers who killed his father and kept him prisoner in a Siberian work camp for 20 years have left. He runs into the woods and, having been struck dumb for many years, starts speaking again, mainly though to animals as there no humans around. What follows is not a fantasy novel, as one might expect, but mystery or Scandi-noir, as a cunning university Professor finds Ivan and sends him to the Congress of Finno-Ugric languages in Helsinki. I enjoyed it as I did with Marani's earlier novel, New Finnish Grammar, which is darker, but deals with similar subject matter.
The last surviving member of an archaic Siberian tribe is released from a gulag: this sounds nothing like the set-up for a thrillerish farce in the style of David Lodge or Tom Sharpe. It's not quite played for laughs, but the academic vendetta of madly egotistical, and even more madly nationalist Helsinki-based Professor of Finno-Ugric Studies, Jarmo Aurtova, is, for at least the first two thirds of the book, like a plot one of those two could have come up with. (There's also an angry ex-wife, a slobbering dog, and a policeman who'd much, much rather be watching the ice hockey.)
Aurtova's problem with former colleague Olga Pavlovna's discovery of Ivan Vostyach - in historico-linguistic terms a sort of human coelacanth - is that the tribesman scuppers the professor's pet theories and his related ideas about the supremacy of the Finns. The (fictional) Vostyach language is the missing link between the Finno-Ugric and Eskimo-Aleut language families. Increasingly crazed Aurtova thinks it would be terrible PR for the Finns to be connected to "a bunch of Indians corralled into reservations, getting drunk and donning feather headdresses for tourists." (Paraphrase as I still can't find the exact quote - he says similar twice.) Finnish was gradually becoming the lingua franca of the Arctic Ocean. But now 'someone' was trying to throw Finland into the dustbin of history, together with the other conquered people who have no future. Eskimo-Aleut actually isn't considered to be closely related to other North American indigenous languages, so is it a sign of Aurtova's failing grip on reality that he connects the discovery with lower-48 Native Americans as well as seeing no interest or way to capitalise on this? (His apparent rejection of the wild folkiness of the Kalevala is quite different from the very little I know about Finnish nationalism - but then this book was written when Nokia was at its most successful, so perhaps modernity was very dominant.) Or is the implied relation of Finno-Ugric to other Amerindian languages and culture simply part of the fiction of the story? Petrovna mentions that the Vostyachs cook beavers in the same manner as the Potowatomi [who aren't actually extinct], and a couple of other similarities with Native Americans. Marani would appear to know altogether too much about linguistics to have made an unconscious error. I know something about the history and connections, but never got seriously into the fine detail about technical linguistic features - although looking up references for this book has reminded me of a few. There's almost certainly some humour in the use of linguistic terms for those who know them better. I know just enough about the subject for all the made-up facts to make me as excited as the best New Scientist article I'd read for a couple of years, but not enough to get picky about them. (It's also fascinating that Finnish - according to Pavlovna - has no future tenses. I wonder if it would feel different to think in a language which has none.)
Italian Eurocrat Marani is obviously deeply enamoured of Finland and its culture (see also New Finnish Grammar, published two years before this) - as well as of ideas about the power of language itself. Again here he's indulging his romantic ideas about north-eastern Europe, but it also makes the opinions hidden in the work far less glaring and preachy than if he had written about English speakers' reactions to a fossil language. (And twelve years after first publication, the increasing dominance of English via the internet, and concerns for the future even of smaller national languages, makes Aurtova's opinions even more surreal.)
There is a pacy, un-literary feel to quite a lot of the action. And the pages about Ivan Vostyach himself, his ancestral knowledge and connections with the natural world are very beautiful and idealised, like an earthier version of the rural-fantasy books I remember so fondly from childhood (Penelope Lively, Susan Cooper etc), or some of my own imaginings of pre-literate East & North European cultures - essentially the old world of Gaiman's American Gods - when I used to read about them and their languages in encyclopaedias around the same time. Apart from New Finnish Grammar I haven't read anything else which relates linguistic history to nature mysticism in the way I did then. These books are imperfect, nonetheless they are close to my heart. The narrative can send a shiver down the spine at the same time as one can suspect that it might be slightly cheesy to those who don't feel that way.
It was twenty years since Ivan had uttered a word, twenty years since the language spoken by the oldest tribe of the Proto-Uralic family, the Vostyachs, cousins of the Samoyeds, the wild bear hunters who once lived in the Byrranga Mountains and who scientists blieved to be extinct - had been heard anywhere in Northern Siberia. Hearing those sounds, all nature quaked. Things that had not been named for years emerged sluggishly from their long sleep, realizing they still existed....They were back, the men who could talk with wolves, who knew the names of the black fish hidden in the mud of the arctic lakes, of the fleshy mosses which, for a few summer days, purpled the rocks below the Tajmyr Peninsula; the men who had found the way out of the dark forests into another world but never the way back.
Vostyach also has a single word for "something grey glimpsed running in the snow".
Still, pre-gulag life could also be harsh and humans don't actually have the supremacy over nature that's strongly implied above: the old people of the village had talked of the time when the scourge of this powdery snow had first struck...The snow was like sand, some six feet deep, and walking on it might end in suffocation... [Hunters] were slowed down with [snow shoes] on their feet, and by the time they had drawn their bows their prey had fled...Men ate the drumskins, the bark of trees, such roots as had managed to push their way through the frozen ground...many lacked the strength even to dig or to collect firewood.
Pavlovna discusses the idea of Vostyach as noble savage a little, but altogether this revelry in the mystical feels like a consciously created (guilty) pleasure for those who understand the reality but know one can enjoy fantasy too. I liked Pavlovna a lot; she is one of those characters who is in a way a mouthpiece for ideas, but I found her inner conflicts and fascinations entirely understandable.
I enjoyed the first two-thirds of the book so much that I was in a state of mind in which I wanted patterns of genre confirmed or at least more story that I liked. I loved it so much it was quite possibly going to be five stars. But the final third, in plotting, was more literary, less ideal, not nearly so emotionally satisfying or amusing. I didn't altogether like what happened, the childish crux of it. Although the ending could be interpreted as a set of entirely reasonable opinions about how rare languages and their speakers might be treated.
In a couple of other reviews I've mentioned that Dedalus should improve their covers, and this is the worst I've seen yet: boring, ugly and reflecting almost nothing of the fun of the book - hardly likely to generate much-needed extra sales from browsers in bookshops. Surely even if they can't afford bigshot professional designers like Random House, they can do better than this.
This is the second novel I've read by Marani, an Italian Eurocrat with an apparent love of all things Finnish... It's seven years now since I read 'New Finnish Grammar' but it made enough of an impression on me that I wanted to read another of the author's books. When I found out what this one was about, I couldn't wait for the postman to deliver it.
And 'The Last of the Vostyachs' starts brilliantly. It evokes all the melancholy that ought to be associated with a dying language and culture. I'm not quite sure why, but I was put in mind of Ismail Kadare's superb 'The File on H'. Thereafter, for this reader at least, Marani's novel didn't live up to its promise. It develops a number of interweaving plot lines, becoming over complicated and not very credible in the process. As a result, it resembled a farce, and one that wasn't always funny. Individually, these different strands worked quite well. The scenes in the seedy Helsinki district of Kallio, for instance, were quite convincing and the descriptions of the professor's dog, abandoned by his master to his ex-wife, were touching. It ended well too. Overall though, this short novel was just too busy and didn't really hang together. The story of the titular Vostyach became one of the "noble savage" in the city and thus distinctly unoriginal.
For all that, I still feel compelled to read the third of his novels on language and identity, 'The Interpreter'. Hopefully, that novel will be as good as the first of them. 'The Last of the Vostyachs' felt like something of a missed opportunity.
Diego Marani is an Italian author and Eurocrat who writes novels in his spare time. Following on the heels of New Finnish Grammar (2000) which was shortlisted for the 2012 Independent Foreign Fiction Prize and the Best Translated Book Award almost as soon as it was translated, The Last of the Vostyachs (first published in Italian in 2009) has been longlisted for the 2013 IFF prize, and no wonder, it is unputdownable. (IMO it was unlucky not to be shortlisted, but then, at the time of writing this I haven't read all the shortlisted books.)
The Last of the Vostyachs is good fun to read. It has a sombre beginning, but Marani has no intention of letting his central character succumb to victimhood. This novel is a spoof, a melodrama that subverts expectations and a work of comic genius. It also has some thought-provoking elements which elevate the book even further out of the ordinary.
Ivan - brought up in a Siberian gulag - has stumbled out into the snow as a free man in the wake of the demise of Soviet rule. He has lived in the gulag for 20 years as slave labour after he and his father were arrested for ‘poaching’ i.e. living in their traditional hunting lifestyle. His tribe was on the verge of extinction when this happened and when his father was shot dead in front of him, Ivan was the only one left of the Vostyachs, an ancient Siberian shamanic tribe. He is the only one left who speaks their language too, but in the brutal environment of the gulag there was no one to console the little boy and he hasn’t spoken a word since.
But when freedom so miraculously arrives 20 years later Ivan remembers enough of what we Australians call bushcraft to survive alone in the bleak landscape and joyfully, he shouts aloud, recalling his long-unspoken language. He remembers how to fashion a drum from skins too, and his sings his ancient songs, hoping that others of his tribe will come. They don’t because they are all dead. It’s a nice irony, that a Soviet gulag has preserved the life of the sole remaining Vostyach.
The Last of the Vostyachs is the3rd novel by Italian author, Diego Marani, and the second to be translated into English. When Russian linguist Olga Pavlovna, stranded by a blizzard in a remote Siberian village, stumbles across a wild man speaking a strange language, her boredom is instantly transformed into enthusiasm: Ivan is speaking in a tongue thought long extinct. Could he be the last of the Vostyachs? Olga naively shares her discovery with her Finnish colleague, Professor Jarmo Aurtovo, certain he will share her excitement.
Consequently, when she entrusts Ivan into the self-serving Aurtovo’s care, she has no idea of the magnitude of her error. To the aforementioned elements add: a scorned ex-wife who is determined to be rid of her husband’s dog; a Police officer who just wants to watch the ice hockey final; a bar-owning Laplander pimp; a cold snap that freezes the seas in the Gulf of Finland; the XXIst congress of Finno-Ugric languages; an island cabin complete with sauna; zoo animals loose on the streets of Helsinki; an aging, overweight Russian prostitute; and a bunch of people who get excited over the lateral affricative with labiovelar overlay and you have a novel that is a combination of murder mystery, comedy, tragedy, tongue-in-cheek linguistic text and spiritual tale.
Readers who find the philological jargon heavy going should persist, as the truly delicious irony of the ending is well worth it. Flawlessly translated by Judith Landry, this is a brilliant novel which will have readers seeking out Marani’s other works. Clever, funny and moving.
Perhaps this is a review of me as reader rather than of the book. Maybe all reviews are. But here goes anyway: There are some really appealing aspects to this book, none more so than the Vostyach character. There are the various crimes and the freeing of the animals which are all good story elements.
But then there is all the theorising about language, which takes up a good portion of the book's 166 pages. And that's where the author lost me. I started skipping bits and caring less about the characters. In the end it all seemed rather contrived and unconvincing. The Vostyach's fate left me a bit bemused.
Maybe I'm just a bad reader, or the wrong reader for this book. But I think a tough editor and another rewrite would've helped to turn the promising ideas into a more satisfying read.
Well, what a disappointment for a book so widely and effusively praised. The UPSIDE is Marani's descriptive imagery and occasional fresh metaphor. He also writes the indigenous character of Ivan, the last Vostyach, with believability. The philological stuff is interesting too, if a bit obscure for most of us. The translation is very good - it does read like it was written in English. But the DOWNSIDE is unbelievable plotting and weak characterisation (save perhaps for the aforementioned Ivan). I don't mind if an author asks us to suspend belief from time to time, but every turn of the plot here requires it. And the characters are as shape changing as the Baltic ice. You end up saying "Oh please!" as coincidences pile up. The voice in the letter passages sounds stagey and too formal, as is the section where Margareeta leaves a phone message sounding like it was written by her speech writer. I'm left thinking the book needed a couple more drafts, with attention to the plot.
Once this book grabbed me (ie once Ivan embarked on his adventure), I couldn't put it down. Vonnegut meets Rushdie crossed with a Scandinavian thriller. Amazing! And some quite beautiful descriptions of nature. Resonated like a lateral fricative with a labiovelar overlay.
When I ran across this book in the Italian language section, I almost skipped over it because of its decidedly ugly cover. But since there are never very many Italian books to look through, I lingered on this one, despite its regrettable cover, and realized it was by the same author as "Nuova grammatica finlandese" which I had read a few years back and enjoyed.
Perhaps the final selling point for me was the subject matter: languages (Finno-Ugric languages, that is) and linguistics. Although I know little about Finland and the Finnish language, I enjoy linguistics, and a novel featuring the "last speaker" of a moribund language and a linguist trying to "save" it by capturing his words on tape appealed to me. As if that weren't enough, the book has elements of a crime novel.
It's a short book, effectively 170-ish pages, with a larger font than a typical novel, so perhaps it's more of a novella than a true novel. I'm glad the author resisted the temptation to pad his work. The story works perfectly at its current length, and feels complete and satisfying and delivers a full novel-like impact. Events are neither rushed nor stalled: everything flows at a proper pace. My interest was held throughout.
The tone is odd, because on one hand, it's very serious, but, ultimately, it's farcical as well, but avoids going over the top. Certain events coincidentally intersect, dangerously straining credulity, but that didn't bother me in the least. Each of the four main characters seemed well fleshed out and real, despite the short number of pages each was allotted:
Ivan, the titular "last of the Vostiyacks" (or however this made-up Italian word is translated into English) is a tragic victim, but not a victim at the same time, and comports himself admirably. I like the ending his character got.
The Finnish linguistics professor, Aurtova, seems normal (ish) at first, but develops into quite the mad villain.
Olga, the Russian linguistic who happens to run into to Ivan, is also a noble but tragic character, with a dark comedic overtone.
Finally, Margareeta, the ex-wife of Aurtova, whose desire to unload her ex's stinky dog leads her to go a little "Karen" on the local policeman turns out to be a sympathetic, three-dimensional character in her own right.
Back to linguistics, here is a bit of what the female Russian linguist (Olga) says to the male Finnish linguist (Aurtova):
(Note, this is my own personal translation of the Italian — on page 119, by the way — so it may well differ from the "official" published English version.)
"Your language doesn't know the headiness of universality. No one studies it, and all you can do is repeat it among yourselves, because it speaks of a teeny-tiny country that no one knows. To communicate with the world, you have to study another language, you have to venture into words that aren't your own, ones borrowed from other men. Like used clothing, it doesn't fit you."
I liked this passage (and her argument continues, and Aurtova makes a good rebuttal as well) because I've often wondered, or tried to imagine what it would be like to have born into a very small language community (instead of as a native speaker of the most-diffused language on Earth). Finland's population is about 5.5 million people, and the language certainly isn't widely learned around the world, so it truly is a small language community, compared to Olga's Russian, with over 250 million speakers in total, and is a popular language for learners all around the globe.
Well, the fact that I've gone off on a tangent means I'm probably done reviewing the book. I would obviously recommend it unless linguistics bores you to death (there's a good deal of terminology and discussion throughout the story).
Diego Marani continues his engagement with the Finnish language with The Last of the Vostyachs. At the start of the novel, Ivan walks free from a Soviet labor camp and heads into the tundra to live on his own. Ivan hasn't spoken for years, because he is the last living speaker of Vostyach, a proto-language long thought lost to the world. When he comes into a little town to sell some skins he meets a Russian linguist, and she prevails on him to come with her to Helsinki for her to show off at a language conference.
From there Marani takes his story into a really trite and silly direction where the last of the Vostyachs becomes the centre of a passionate and arcane academic dispute over the origins of the Finnish language. The book is full of linguistic jargon and has some of the worst sex scenes you may ever read. A tiresome and silly book, all the more disappointing because the book's opening premise could have been developed into a much more interesting and moving story. This is a good idea totally wasted.
This is my second experience of Diego Marani's work as translated by Judith Landry. I confess my initial disappointment that the copy I reserved at the library did not have the cover with the fox on it. Undeterred, I implemented my lesson learned from "New Finnish Grammar" and read enough to follow the story and then put the book aside to let the nuances settle, to savour the enchantment, to try and grasp the profound.
I found this story more enjoyable in contrast to my recollection of some lengthy religious monologues in “New Finnish Grammar”. There is the surrealism of a seemingly extinct tribe and lone survivor, the over the top extravagance of a nominal villain and comic touches in parts. Yet the story strikes true, grounded in identity and culture - triggers that run deep. Something remains just out of my grasp so tantalisingly elusive, seductive and moving. Stephen King's memoir of craft still intruded on the intimacy of this reading experience when I recoiled from one phrase. How on earth does one "murmur voluptuously"?
This is a novel about communication and about failure to communicate. One of the rare books of fiction I know that is largely about language, but there are also other forms of communication involved, including drumming. I very much admire the way the author has created absurd, almost farcical scenes to communicate his ideas about language and non-communication. How often we think we know exactly what another person is thinking only to discover we were wrong all the way! This fairly short novels packs in a lot about Siberia, animals, snow, Finland and smells. You don't have to know about Finno-Ugric languages to appreciate what the writer is trying to do. A very satisfying and thought-provoking read. I'd recommend it to anybody.
I preferred this book to New Finnish Grammar if for no other reason that it has a far more satisfactory ending.
Definitely one for linguistic nerds - I often got lost in its linguistic jargon - the story follows the last member of the Vostyach tribe, following his emancipation from a Siberian prison camp, whose mere existence threatens an academic's lifelong thesis about the origins of the Finnish language. The academic is determined to eradicate this threat to his professional standing. Chaos and tragedy ensue, but in the end it looks like the Vostyach language may after all survive –albeit in a limited and unexpected format.
I agree with other reviewers that none of the characters are very likeable, but for anyone who has dealt with the egos and ambitions found in academia, they are certainly quite believable.
An utterly surreal book that brings together murder, escaped zoo animals, icy wastes and linguistic semantics, this shouldn't work, but it beautifully does. Marani is a wonderful writer, and he's been wonderfully translated. This is quite insane and extremely dark, it's got a brilliantly love-to-hate villain, and you won't have read anything else like it. Ever.
Kort fortalt: Jeg tror ikke på grunnpremisset som skaper konflikten, jeg liker ikke karakterene, jeg synes mennesynet i boka er motbydelig og den er full av lingvistiske faguttrykk som bare er til pynt og ikke har en litterær funksjon.
Viimeinen vostjakki on haparoiva kertomus, joka yhdistelee kielitiedettä ja jännitystä. Talven, lumen ja pakkasen kuvaus ei ole kovin onnistunutta, mutta teosta on tuskin tarkoitettukaan kovin vakavasti otettavaksi.
Finnish linguist, Aurtova has an unhealthy obsession with maintaining the purity of the Finnish language. When an acquaintance from college, Olga, comes across a strange figure she is convinced supplies the missing link between American Indian languages and Finnish, Aurtova’s world view is dangerously upended. The Vostyach speaker, Ivan, has been imprisoned to work in a Russian mine and when that is abandoned and he is able to leave, he discovers all his former peoples have disappeared. Olga is intrigued by the vocal patterns she hears him using and begins tape recording and studying his language. They become friends, she works to have him transported to the upcoming linguistic conference in Helsinki where Aurtova plans to speak on topics that will be refuted by Ivan’s existence. He arranges his kidnapping but Ivan accidentally kills the prostitute that is sent to him and Aurtova leads Olga to believe he is seducing her and kills her. Ivan escapes and improbably stumbles upon both corpses and builds a joint catafalque for them. Aurtova ends up in a lock ward diagnosed with schizophrenia, Ivan becomes a musician with an Estonian folk band on a cruise ship. It’s all a bit extreme but overall enjoyable.